The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1887-10-21

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''sILENcEr' BE rHUNDERED.
He paused, checked himself by one
supreme effort, and turned to his guests
''Valerie is so realistic" he said. con,
STRANGELY, his fingers clutching at the
acknowledgements glass in his hand
Il was about to rehearse-but pshawi
drink with me! Eugene, fill the glasses!
Ladies and gentlemen, letus drink to
liberty
The toast was drank in silence. The
woman was startled, amazed, a little
frightened, and her fellow-guests EN-.
barrassed. As the object of her raillery
drained his glass he was observed to
stagger slightly and press his hand to
his throat, while the crystal
fell upon the floor in fragments
Blood welled slowly from his lips and
crimsoned his shirt bosom. He moved
his lips, but no sound came from them
Then he was borne to a divan and lost
consciousness.
Good Godr' exclaimed he whom
she had addressed as Victor, and who
had first rushed to his assistance, che
has bitten the glass through in his pas
sion and 1 fear some of the crystal has
lodged in his throat"
In month he could speak, and that
was all. He would never sing again.
1t was showing outside, and he paced
his room moodily. He had never
dreamed of life removed from riches
and had made no provision for such a
position as that in which he was placed.
The organ, of course, he was still mas
| ter of, and to this he owed the avoid.
ance of absolute poverty. Friends he
had none; they had all deserted him
within a week of his mighty loss.
cit was a dream, " he murmured, un.
consciously quoting from one Of
his favorite songs. Il was blind,
and yet [ should have been a fool tc
open my eyes. Oh, Godr' he added,
passionately, cit is too bitter. could
have lost her, but my voice-can I live
1 will not! shall end tonight. They
shall see that value life less than they
value me in my misery"
He drew a tiny pistol from dainty
! case and handled it carefully. "This
shall set me free, but, first-first will
90 for an instant back to the past and
to Genevi1ve."
He placed the pistol carefully upon
the case of the miniature organ, an ex-
| quisite instrument, the one relic of his
life of triumph that he had declined to
] T. I, 1, 4
and passed his hands over the keys.
1t is the goodbye" that he plays,
/ and the old sweet measure for the mo-
ment lulls to rest in him all that
is despairing and bitter. The
Uor hatmanG gives out the
air with plaintive sweetness
that brings back all the flood of memo
ries of things that after tonight and
| forever are to be silenced.
1t is ended. The last lingering chord
has died away. Mechanically, with
eyes half-elosed and smile upon his
face, he arises and lifts the pistol from
its resting place. "Ah, true friend. y
he murmurs, ''do your work WELL and
| -
The point of the weapon is at his
forehead. But he is gazing into the
mirror over the mantel-piece, and with
a strange fascination perceives the
door open and a slight, yelled woman
enters. A moments hesitation, and
the pistol is hidden in the pocket of his
loose velvet lounging jacket.
He knows her at glance. 'Stay,
he says softly, raising his hand with a
courteously deprecating gesture, al am
thing unworthy of your compassion
! I do not deserve it, and do not seek
it. But see''-and with bound he is
on his knee at her side, pressing the
hem Of her dress to his lips in rever.
i ence.
The veil is thrown back and
she speaks: Guy" she whispers,
"they are dead, my father and sister,
and I am alone. They said in the
newspaper that you too were alone
that they had all deserted you. Per
haps / did not come so much to Offer
compassion as to seek it. And oh,
Guy voice sinking into a won
drous tenderness-''it said, in the pa
per that when they thought you were
dying and the doctors came to look
at your poor wounded throat-that-
that my little locket with the lock Of
hair that YOU asked me for. was upon
your breast and that when you lay
in that terrible fever you called and
called and called for GeHeUieUe."
"Can you trust me, crippled, voice.
less as amp" he asks breathlessly. Il,
it possible?"